This book by Helena Kelly had been on my radar probably since it was published or shortly thereafter. My mom had a copy of it in her collection, but never got around to reading it. That meant this book was added to my library after my mom died and I went rifling through her books before my dad could throw them out to see what I wanted to keep. I don’t think I kept every book related to Jane Austen, but I definitely kept most of them.
My mom had heard through the rumor mill that, overall, this book was good, but that Kelly gets some of her facts wrong, so I went into this book a little wary, but still eager to read it for myself.
Then I read an article by Kelly a few years ago in which she deconstructs the myth of Jane Austen’s famous one-night engagement. I was startled to learn that something that has long been accepted as fact among Jane Austen fans and historians was built on such flimsy grounds. Seeing that the article was written by the author of this book made me more interested in this book.
Now that I’ve read it I can verify that, yes, Kelly gets a couple of her facts wrong. But on the whole, I found it a very enlightening read and I’m glad I read it.
The book has an introduction, then one chapter devoted to each of Jane Austen’s books, then a conclusion. That’s not to say the book is a short one, because each chapter is a long chapter. Kelly does not skimp on the details when diving into, not only the true meaning of these books, but many of the most common misconceptions associated with them and why they’re so wrong.
I found it fascinating and I loved learning so much about Austen and the time in which she was living. And by the way, the one-night engagement is not the only myth that Kelly exposes as nothing more than myth. There are some other “quotes” of Austen’s that involve misconstruing her words or just plain making them up. Kelly spends a lot of time and effort investigating the origins of these myths, as well as the potential motives of the people who originated them. One example that stands out is the things her brother wrote about her right after her death that stand in direct contradiction to some of Jane’s own writings. Was he truly speaking for his sister, or just saying what he thought would boost sales of the combined publication of two of her books that were rushed to print right after her death?
As to the two things I noticed that Kelly got wrong, the first is when she said the Church of England was founded by Elizabeth I. It wasn’t. It was founded by her father, Henry VIII. It’s a minor fact to get wrong, especially in a book that’s not about the Tudors, but it’s also a well-known fact that I feel like an editor or someone should have caught before the book went to print.
The other thing she got wrong was in calling Pride and Prejudice a fairytale because Lizzy gets to marry above her class and, aside from Lady Catherine throwing her hissy fit, not too much is made about it. Kelly points out that other books of the time and novels by the likes of Samuel Richardson have women marrying above their class, and that causes a lot of tension.
What Kelly misses is that Lizzy is not marrying above her class. Yes, Darcy has more money than the Bennets, but he’s not a member of the aristocracy and the Bennets are no poor farmers. As Lizzy tells Lady Catherine, “He is a gentleman. I am a gentleman’s daughter. Thus far, we are equal.” And if Mr. Bennet had done his duty by his daughters and put money aside for them, he probably would have been able to give Lizzy the kind of dowry a man like Darcy would expect — or at least something closer to it. Lizzy isn’t reaching above her station so much as she is reclaiming something more similar to what would have been her due all along if her father had been a better steward of his estate and his family.
Aside from Mr. Darcy, Kelly spends a lot of time in this book tearing up the men in Austen’s novels, and that I had a hard time with, because we all know them as great romantic reads. OK, yes, the age difference between Emma and Mr. Knightly is pretty gross, but other than that, come on! I don’t care if Edmund is an easily manipulated fool, I so relate to the girl who is constantly overlooked and shoved to the side in favor of the bright, shiny object. And who doesn’t want the other people in her life to finally come to their senses and recognize her true value? Maybe it’s not that Edmund is fickle, maybe he just evolves and is made to see the error of his ways.
Kelly also had some quibbles about Edward and Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility, and I think both of those required a bit of a stretch, including some questionable math and using Latin to call a moment of frustration a sign of sexual violence. Is it disturbing that Edward destroyed someone else’s property in a moment of pique? Sure. But sexual violence is too serious an accusation to make with fancy wordplay and a desire to destroy all our romantic dreams.
OK, maybe not all our romantic dreams (Kelly does allow us to maintain the fantasy of Lizzy and Darcy), but the attacks on the characters of the other men in Austen’s novels seemed based on more solid ground than these.
And although I don’t buy into Kelly’s questionable math to accuse Colonel Brandon of fathering a child by another woman, I’ve always been disturbed by the age difference between him and Marianne. And I never liked that she was coerced into marrying him and then just decided to love him.